


five times simon had trouble getting out of bed

by ThatmakesmeNervous



Category: Love Simon (2018), Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda - Becky Albertalli
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Happy Ending, M/M, Panic Attacks, its really sad guys sorry, why do i always hurt my favorite characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 04:31:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14205126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatmakesmeNervous/pseuds/ThatmakesmeNervous
Summary: and one time he didn't.read notes at the beginning please !! thanks :)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> okay this is kind of sad guys soz lmao i guess i just like hurting my fav characters. i already have chapter 1-3 written, so be looking out for those. i promise the end is going to be sunny and nice. also just kind of realized that the title sounds slightly sexual but this fic is mostly about how when your sad and you don't want to face the world and... yeah. as always, comment any problems you have (or just comment bc i really appreciate it, it makes my heart happy)
> 
> ps while writing this i listen to a lot of simon inspired playlist, but mostly this one called "Simon's The Great Depression" by trieuthenguyen.id so maybe go give that a listen bc it's really really cool !!

It’s weird how days like this creep up on me sometimes. It’s like, I went to sleep perfectly okay. I had dinner with Nora and Mom and Dad, and they were all just a cheery as usual. Funnies stories in combination with “Could you please pass the rolls?” I didn’t speak much--nothing really happened at school that day other than a test I made a 70 on, and I wasn’t quite ready to discuss that yet. But I guess I seemed well enough, because I still got away with the homework excuse. I suppose that should've been the first clue. God, it’s bad enough that I’m oblivious to everyone else’s feelings, and now I have the pleasure of being oblivious to my own. 

So I guess, in retrospect, it’s not so surprising that today is going to be a bad day. I don’t really want to move--not even to move my arm out from underneath my head to stop the pins-and-needles prickling--so I don’t know how I’m going to get out of bed and go to school. It’s not really like me to wallow (okay, so maybe it is, but at least I can make it come off as a joke), but this time I seriously can’t even move. I don’t feel like crying or panicking. I don’t really feel like anything. 

There’s a light knocking on my bedroom door. “Simon?” Ah, there it is. Now I remember. It’s not sadness or anxiety--it’s the freaking guilt.  _ Please don’t come in, please don’t come in, please don’t come in,  _ I will my mom. But she does. I still haven’t opened my eyes, which I guess is a good thing because I won’t have to look at her and think about how much I’m lying about. Is it really lying though? It’s just… a secret. A big freaking secret. And I know for a fact that having girlfriend’s--or lack thereof but still playing it off like I want one--has to be lying. Oh god, I’m lying to my parents. This officially freaking sucks. 

“Honey…” she starts. She sits softly on the edge of my bed and begins to rub my shoulder blades in slow, soothing circles. “You have to leave for school in a few minutes. Do you think you can go today?” And now the guilt has shifted into anxiety. Is it easier to lie to your parents or your friends? Those are my two options here. 

I could pretend to be sick--and maybe I am, in some ways. But then I would have to stay home all day, and no matter how shitty I feel now, I don’t thinking taking a day to “relax” would help. It would only help in missing class time, worrying my friends, and aiding myself in my own lies. But if I go, not only would I have to get ready in 5 minutes, I would also get a hundred pitying glances a minute from the group. But it’s not like we’d actually talk about it. If I get up now, I could just play it off like I had a late night. No awkward discussions with my parents. 

“Yeah… Yeah, I can go,” I say without opening my eyes. Mom’s breath hitches, like she wants to say that she doesn’t think that’s a good idea, but she’s a firm believer in the fact that if her kids have a problem that they’ll just talk to her, so I don’t think she’ll actually say anything. I open my eyes and look up at her. 

“Okay, Simon. Just… If you have a problem--”

“I know. I’ll talk to you.” 

She allows me a faint smile. I know it’s supposed to be comforting, but now I feel like crying. Great. Just freaking perfect. It crosses my mind that I  _ could  _ just talk to her. But she stands up, and then she’s out of my room. I realize what a stupid idea that is. Just telling her. Because I’m not ready, and even more, I don’t think they’re ready. Will they ever be ready? Will I ever just be able to do this without everything changing suddenly? Like a rug I didn’t even know I owned being pulled out from under my feet?

Okay, time to stop thinking. I actually need to get up. Which is way harder than I ever thought it could be. My heart starts pounding.  _ Oh god, oh god, oh god.  _ A hear a thump on the other side of the wall, which must be Nora getting antsy about being late. Suddenly I feel like someone has shocked me, and I’m a vessel of nervous energy. I didn’t think I was like this. 

My feet hit the floor, and the energy is replaced with dread.  _ What the fuck is up with me?  _ Still, I force myself to walk to my dresser and put on some jeans. I don’t really feel like doing much more, so I just throw my jacket over the shirt I slept in and scrounge around in my desk for some gum. I grab my phone and walk downstairs. The kitchen is already empty, which is unusual for mornings in this house. 

Then I’m in my car riding to Nick’s, and then Leah’s. “Oh my god, where have you been?” Leah has a smile on her face, so I know she’s not actually mad at me. 

“Oh, y’know…” I trail off awkwardly. Yeah. Today is going to be hard. 

“You good, dude?” Nick is so very casual about everything. I wonder how he would react. I don’t really think I want to know. 

“Yeah, I’m good.” I hope I sound as casual as he does. 

Nick and Leah share a look. It’s pretty dramatic, because Leah has to turn the whole top part of her body to look to the backseat. My hands tighten on the steering wheel. 

I pull over; Abby gets into the car. All smiles and energy.  _ Lord,  _ how do they all  _ do it?  _

“Hey! We getting coffee?” 

“No. We’re going to be late,” I huff. I don’t mean to sound upset, but I guess it’s hard to be all energy and smiles and happiness when you… aren’t. 

Leah laughs to reassure me that she’s not upset, but then she says, “And whose fault is that?” 

I don’t say anything, but I fiddle with the radio. I’m suddenly angry. Why should I even have to tell them? Why can’t I just have a boyfriend? Why can’t they just assume that I’m not straight? 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Freaking Leah. I love her, but does she really need to ask?

I look at her. My anger dissipates. She looks so… Lord. 

I quickly focus my eyes on the road again, so I don't have to look at her when I say, “I had a late night.” 

Nick snorts a laugh. 

“What?” 

“I don’t know. You just,” he starts. But then he catches my eye in the rearview. “I don’t know, man. Sorry.” 

I almost want to drag it out. I almost want to self-destruct, right here. Instead, I stay silent. A few hauntingly awkward minutes pass before I pull into the student parking lot. We all grab our bags and pretend nothing happened, even though we’re all still thinking about it. I don’t care. They can think about it all they want. This is my thing, and I get to decide how I want to do it. 

So even with all the guilt and anxiety and sadness, I can still justify distracting myself until I’m ready. Until they’re ready. 

Right?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow this one is like... 200 words shorter than the last. lmao whatcha gonna do tho

Okay, this time, it seriously didn’t even attempt to sneak up on me. I knew the moment I got home that tonight was going to awful, and the morning was going to be even worse. Freaking Martin fucking Addison. I swear to God. 

I thought the stress of just staying in the closet was bad enough, but now someone is physically trying to push me out. And he involved my friends. 

And yet. 

This isn’t about them. I mean, really, it isn’t. This is about me, and me being blackmailed. As much as I don’t want to involve Abby in this, she would understand that I’m not ready yet. I’m, just, seriously not ready for everything to change. I don’t even understand the change yet, really, and I’m the one who’s facilitating it! 

And Blue… 

Jesus. 

So that brings me here. I don’t know what time it is, but, last time I checked, it was well past 12. I have a French test tomorrow--today--that I’m going to flunk, and I know that, even before that, I’m going to have to deal with worried parents and worried friends. 

Millions of worried, worried faces. I’m the one who should be worried. Because this could end in so many ways. So many horrible, horrible ways. What is Abby doesn’t understand? She would know that it isn’t  _ really  _ about the gay thing, because she knows I would just talk to her. No. It’s really just about Blue. Goddammit. I really don’t want to lose him. Does love justify hurting your friends? 

Does love justify hurting those that you love? 

Before I know it, it’s morning, and my mom is knocking on my door again with a  pitying knowing smile. “Simon, honey, you have to leave in a few. To go to school, if you can. I have to leave--Nora needs to get to school,too--but text me about what you do, okay? It’s perfectly okay to take a day, if you need it.” 

She’s rubbing my back, like last time. I guess moms can tell when you need to be comforted, and they know when you need to be left alone. My mom has perfected the art of somehow doing both at the same time. 

“Okay. I think I’ll take Leah and Abby and Nick to school, though,” I mumble. It’s the least I can do before I ruin everything. Like I always do. Because I  _ know  _ what I’m doing. I know that it’s wrong, but I just… can’t let go. Not yet.

It takes Mom  a moment to speak again. She leans down to press a kiss onto the crown of my head. “I love you, Simon,” she says softly against my skin. She leans back up and ruffles my hair softly. 

Then she’s gone, so I get up. I think sweatpants and gum could be the name of my memoir. 

I go to pick up Nick.

“Hey, man, where are your pants?” 

I pick up Leah. 

“Hey! Um… Hey, Simon.” 

I pick up Abby. 

“Are you going to school today?” 

I look at her in the rearview. “What?” Anxiety is rising in my stomach. 

“You’re wearing sweatpants. I didn’t even think you owned sweatpants.” 

I huff and hope it comes out like a laugh, but I don’t respond. I think maybe she’s dropped it, and the weight on my chess begins to decrease. And then-- 

“Well? Are you?”

“...No.” 

“Why not?” 

I choose not to answer, but we’re stopped at a red light. It feels like one of those moments where I should make some dramatic declaration. 

And maybe I want to. 

“I… I…” My heart is beating so, so fast. Jesus Christ, people actual do this? I turn around to face Abby, because it just seems right. Her eyebrows are screwed together, and her eyes are pleading and confused. 

_ I’m so sorry. This isn’t right. _

I know my face is panicked because it almost looks like Nick wants to reach out and place a comforting hand on my shoulder. I’m looking between them frantically, and Leah’s presents is tense beside me. 

“I’m--” 

“Green light,” Leah says. 

I think I accidently turn around too quickly, because my head starts spinning. 

“Right, right.” I pretend my hands aren’t shaking. Gently, gently I press on the gas. Everything is ten times more terrifying than it was before. 

A few minutes pass, and I pull up to school. They reach for their bags slowly. 

“Well,” I start, and the fake sweetness in my voice burns my throat, “have a good day a school!” An awkward smile and laugh. A cheerful wave. The car doors slam shut, and I can breathe again. I pull back onto the road. The ride home is seems graciously shorter than the ride to school. 

I don’t really have the energy to take my sweatpants back off, so I guess I’ll just sweat. I didn’t make my bed, which is unusual for me. I like to lay on top of the comforter and sheets, but now they’re all rumpled underneath my chest. 

Just about the time my heart stops beating so fast, my breathing regulates, and I finally don’t feel so shitty about Blue and Abby and Everything, my phone buzzes. 

_ Monkey’s Asshole: hey where r u? _

_ Monkey’s Asshole: should i try 2 talk to abby? _

I nearly throw my phone against the wall, but I settle instead for crying and attempting to lift the guilt off my chest. 

I don’t get out of bed until the next morning. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is much short than 1 and 2 so i'm really sorry about that, but i'm kind of proud of it. three is my favorite chapter so far. i'm gonna try to get the next chapters to at least 800 words. i have four written (just needs to be beta read) so be expecting that in a few hours maybe?? i'm going to try to write part of 5 before i release four. anyway, thanks for reading!! dont forget to comment :)

Today was actually pretty great. Better than normal, which I guess is pretty suspicious, but I’m gonna try really hard not to dwell on that. Instead, I open up my laptop and start writing to Blue. 

It starts out pretty great; then I start drifting. It seems like I always end up here. 

_ I want to know who you are.  _

_ I want to know who you are.  _

_ I want to know who you are.  _

I already know what he’s going to say. He’s not ready. I respect that, but it still hurts. The rational part of my brain tells me he trusts me. I already trust him more than a lot of people in my life. Or maybe I’m just more comfortable with him. Except I’m not even  _ with  _ him. Lord.

I send the email and try to distract myself. Scroll, text, read, repeat. It’s kind of unbearable. I guess what’s to come is really inevitable. I open up my playlist--The Great Depression--and flop on top of my sheets. I like laying on top of them, but I wish I had the energy to get underneath them. 

I know right away that I won’t be able to get up. It’s not like I have to, though. Dinner has already come and gone, and I’m probably already supposed to be asleep. I mean, I guess it’s just annoying. I know that I don’t have to get up, but I also know that I can’t. Even if I wanted to. My arms and legs feel heavy and fuzzy, like they aren’t even attached to my body at all. I just  _ miss _ him so  _ much. _

I don’t even  _ know  _ him. 

It doesn’t really make much of a difference though. It’s like this almost every single day. Fall in love, realize it’s never going to happen, sleep, repeat. Jesus. My thoughts are jumbled and depressing; I don’t even recognize myself. 

Sometimes I think life would be easier if I could just pretend. Pretend to be straight. To have a girlfriend to marry and 2.4 kids and a white picket fence. To not be blackmailed or constantly afraid. In reality, I know that would be worse for everyone. I still can’t help but wonder if it would be easier, though. 

No. No, no, no, no. This is who I am. I’m proud of who I am. I’m gay, and I know there’s nothing wrong with that. I deserve to be in love, and I deserve… I deserve. 

Maybe Blue hasn’t realized that. Or maybe he has, but he’s still living in a stream of thoughts like… like my own. So what if I don’t know what his face looks like. I  _ do  _ know who he  _ is _ . . That’s enough for now. It has to be enough. 

The beginning notes of a Sufjan Stevens song filter through my ears. It’s good. It’s normal. Sad and normal. 

My feet hit the floor, and the sheets are pulled back. So what if mornings are tough? So what if nights are even harder? I deserve happiness, and it will come to me. In little things. 

Mom rubbing my shoulders. Dad quickly running his rough hands though my hair. Leah’s quirky side eyes. Nick’s face when he makes a goal. Abby requesting her iced coffee with milk. Blue… Just Blue. 

I get into bed again and hope the morning will be okay. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think this is actually my favorite chapter now, even though it reads kind of choppy. comment any confusing parts if there are any pls. i have chapter five written so i may post a sneak peak of that on tumblr hahaha evil laugh. also, again, this chapter is kind of short, but i kept my promise of 800 words!!! proud of myself tbh

That’s it. It’s over. It’s out there, and I can never be the person I was before. 

Martin  _ fucking  _ Addison. 

I read the post over and over and over again, and it gets worse each time. My phone is going off like crazy. I want to disappear. 

I can hear Nora crying in the next room. I’m a fucking terrible person. I get up and shut my door as softly as possible, even though I want to slam it and punch holes in it and throw shit and scream. I vaguely register the hot, angry tears rolling calmly down my face. I wipe them off, and wipe them off a few more times. My hands are in my hair; running, running, pulling, pulling. 

I sit back down at my desk to look at the post again. Reading it now, I’m almost required to laugh. I know Martin wrote this. The same fucking dude whose brother is gay and said “I don’t have a problem with it,” and “It’s just not that big of a deal.” I don’t understand how he could be so  _ cruel _ about it. Jesus. 

Well. If one thing is for certain, it’s that I officially hate Martin fucking Addison. 

I guess that’s at least one thing I can count on: Martin being a fucking asshole. That, and my new habit of lying in bed until people start to worry. Which is exactly what I’m planning to do right now. Pants off, sheets pulled back, playlist on. Nick Drake. Perfect. 

A few minutes pass of just laying there, which is great besides the overwhelming amount of terrible things I have to think about. I realize that everything about this situation is so freaking hilarious. It occurs to me that Martin probably would’ve leaked my emails if I had helped him or not, because there will never be a situation where he’s _ not _ the victim. Also, I have to admit that the irony of the entire fucking school knowing--homophobes and my friends and  _ Blue _ \--before my parents is just  _ rich.  _ I mean, seriously. Great. 

Why couldn’t I have just told Abby about the blackmail? I actually  _ came out  _ to  _ her. _ Oh, right. Blue. It’s always about Blue. 

Oh, god.  _ Blue.  _

He’s going to know now. He’s going to know and he’s going to hate me and everything is going to be ruined and--

I have to write to him. 

But, God, I’m so tired. It’s not even worth it, is it? He’s probably already blocked me. I mean, I understand. Block Jacque for his carelessness, but block Simon just because he’s Simon. Really, I understand. 

I don’t think I could get to my laptop anyway. 

I settle for a long night of anger and tears and shallow breaths. 

I sleep in the next morning, but so does everyone else, so it doesn’t matter much. Now I’m awake, though, so time had decided to move like molasses. I know that I have to tell my parents today. What would be the point of trying to keep it a secret now? What would be the point of lying  _ now? _ I would have to live two different lives. I mean, that’s what I was doing before, but now both parts of myself are too big. They’re fighting each other. It’s not worth it to tear myself apart for this last tiny piece of normalcy. 

It takes about three different attempts--within the span of an hour--for me finally get out of bed. Maybe that should be my last shred of normalcy: the difficulty it takes to just get out of my bed.  _ Something _ has to be normal, after all. 

Hours pass painfully. We eat breakfast like nothing is wrong. Mom pretends not to notice the tension is Nora’s shoulder. Dad pretends not to stare at me. I pretend my cup of coffee is really, really interesting. 

We start opening presents. The weight on my chest is unbearable. I can’t breathe and I can’t think and yes, Dad, the headphones are great, thank you. There’s a lull in the awkward chuckles and conversation. 

All I can really hear is the blood rushing in my ears. Dad makes a joke, I know. I take a deep breath and purposely don't look up when I say it. 

“Really, though. I’m gay.” 

And there it is. Two words. I can feel the energy in the air shift into something abnormal. It’s tense and suffocating. I realize that I can never again be the person I was two seconds ago. Two words ago. Dad gets up and leaves, and Mom says something. I just continue to open presents. They weren’t ready. 

I wasn’t ready. 

We finish up unwrapping gifts pretty quickly. I guess Mom and Nora want to get out of here just as much as I do. I briefly consider going on a walk, just to escape the stale air inside my house. But I know the only place I have to go is Nick’s or Leah’s, and I don’t really want to talk to them. They’ve probably figured to blackmail thing out by now. They don’t want to see me. 

So I go back to my room to fade into my new normal. At least I can hide from everything somewhere where it’s comfortable. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like this is somehow the best and worst chapter so far. it isn't beta read, so i have no idea if it's totally confusing or what. although, it kind of reads to me like a weird fever dream. which i guess is what i was going for. but if this chapter isn't clear, it's mostly about the guilt (guilt, guilt, and more guilt) that simon feels for involving his friends in the blackmail. it's more movie based than anything, so have fun w that. comment please and tell me what i need to work on or smth lol

I can’t say that I knew  _ this  _ would happen. I think some part of me believed that they would find a way to forgive me. Or maybe I’m just so selfish that I couldn’t think of anyone but myself for one goddamn minute. Either way, I hurt them. 

I understand. I stalled them all from finding love. I think if there is anyone who understands how hard it is to just  _ be in love, _ it’s me. And I ended up being the one who  _ kept  _ them from being in love. How fucked up is that? My life just loves the irony of it all, I guess. 

I actually really like my new normal. This part of it at least. It’s probably fucked up that I really like just laying here. I like not thinking about my actions or the consequences of them. I like not having to think about what I’m going to do once I get up, because I’m not  _ going  _ to get up.

Until Mom knocks, at least. 

Maybe I’ll still skip first period, though. I mean, it’s only the first day back after break. Besides that quiz over the first few chapters of  _ Wuthering Heights,  _ I know that there’s nothing going on. I can’t miss play rehearsal, though. 

Wait. Jesus. This is selfish, isn’t it? I can’t just… just miss school. 

Everything is so confusing, and this is the first time that all of the sheets on top of me have been hot, hot, hot. I can’t stay here. Nervous energy is buzzing in my finger tips. My body wants to get up and make things right with my friends, but my head is fuzzy and tired. 

What’s the point of laying here if I still have to think about the consequences of my actions? 

_ Selfish, selfish, selfish.  _

Okay. Okay, fine. I swing my feet around to touch the carpet. I don’t know if I was really that hot or if the carpet is somehow cold, but it feels good. Except now my head is spinning. Great. I try not to think about it for long before I attempt to stand up. And then I’m on the floor, and my head is spinning even faster. The entire world tilts as I try again and again to stand. 

“Simon?” 

“Everything’s fine!” 

“...” 

“I’m getting up. I’m going to school today.” 

“Okay… Okay, honey.” 

I hear Mom’s steps echo as she walks back downstairs. I’m still on the floor. The carpet is still cold. Another few minutes--even though they feel like hours--pass before I get up. I check the time. Wow. I actually… might not be late today. Maybe it would be best if I just pretend everything is normal. 

I jump into my jeans; the movement makes me feel more alive. I put on my jacket and think about picking up my friends. We’re going to listen to The 1975 in the car and dance in our seats and laugh. Everything is great. Even though brushing my teeth is kind of pointless because of all the coffee we drink, I still do it. It’s nice. I really like brushing my teeth. 

I’m actually sort of smiling when I get out to my car. Before I open the driver’s side door, I look down the street. Abby’s car is parked in Nick’s driveway. Oh. Right. 

My door slams. I drive past my house. Past Nick and Leah’s. It’s fine; I can still get coffee. That’s normal. 

I’ve never had to order just one iced coffee. It’s kind of sad. Pitiful, miserable, terrible. But I’ve come this far. 

The day passes in a blur of stares, stifling sadness, and headaches. 

Until lunch, that is. After a quick, cutting look from Abby, I understand that I am no longer welcome at their lunch table. I look down shamefully. This sucks. When I look back up, Bram is giving me this pained look. I offer him a smile. I feel like he’s one of those guys who would blame himself for all of his friends’ problems. This, though, is in no way his fault. Not in the slightest. 

I sit down at a relatively empty table. More stares and hissing whispers. I wish the floor would just swallow me whole. Then this stupid song starts up and someone is yelling. Oh. They’re yelling at me. My body kind of goes on autopilot. I’m out of my seat, and I’m yelling, too.

Ms. Albright shows up, and then  _ she’s  _ yelling. Obviously, she puts a stop to the whole scene. The entire time--before I even showed up to school, when I was still lying face down on the carpet, ordering one iced coffee, seeing Abby, when I sat down at that lunch table and the floor  _ didn’t  _ swallow me up, the walk to the vice principal’s office, and on and on and on--I can only really think one thing. 

_ God, I wish I would’ve stayed in bed.  _


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kind of sad that this is the last chapter, but i was thinking of doing another 5+1 fic, even though spring break for me is almost over and it would take a long ass time to write. Maybe i'll post ab it on my tumblr idk. anyway, enjoy!

I could feel my heart racing before I even opened my eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever been this excited in my life. Today is a day that historians will mark in history forever. The day when things finally go back to normal. 

The weight I always seem to be feeling lifts piece by piece everytime I refer to  _ this  _ as normal. It is normal. I’m gay, and I’m out. My friends are my friends again. My parents are still my parents. Everything is  _ normal,  _ and I am  _ happy.  _

And Blue. I finally have Blue. Bram. 

I feel like jumping out of bed, so I do. Really. I do a few little hops and shimmies on my mattress, and my feet eventually land on the floor. My head doesn’t spin. I don’t fall down. It’s so  _ easy _ . 

Everything was so difficult, every single day, for so long. Now, it’s easy; it’s kind of scary, too. I wouldn’t change it for the world. 

My routine passes in a happy, pleasant blur. Jeans, not sweatpants. Toothpaste, not gum. Breakfast! A real, fulfilling breakfast with my parents and my sister. God. I’m happy. I almost run out the door. 

“Hey, dude!” Nick is so casual about everything. I can’t get enough of it. 

“Hey!” Leah’s bright smile and wonderfully snarky side eyes make things even better. 

“Hey, guys! Hey, babe.” Abby and Nick share a short kiss, and he tangles himself around her. It warms my heart to see them together and content. 

I turn to pick up Bram. 

Abby’s nose scrunches in confusion. “What are we doing?” I blush a little, and the happy butterflies in my stomach become thick anxiety in my throat. Blood rushes to my cheeks.

“Oh, well I just thought that maybe--you know--that I would just--” 

“We’re picking up Bram,” Nick says. It’s not a question; it’s just a simple, understanding answer. 

“Yeah.” The butterflies are back and the smile on my face timidly returns, but the blush doesn’t fade. 

“Okay, but… I worked hard for this seat,” Leah says. I burst out laughing. 

“Yeah. You’re moving,” I say, still smiling. I sound like my mom when she says, “Yeah, no way.” It’s sweet and sarcastic, but I hope that Leah knows that I mean business. 

I park, and she opens the passenger side door. Good. 

Bram gets in, and he smiles this perfect, sparkling smile. My lungs fill with air, and my toes curl. 

“Hey,” he says. And  _ Jesus.  _

“Hey,” I say back. We just kind of stare at each other for a moment, and I realize now what everyone is talking about when they mention The Honeymoon Phase.

“God. This is painful. Please just kiss,” Abby says. Bram and I both let out a full bodied laugh. Nick and Leah and Abby do, too, so I’m not really that nervous about  _ maybe _ kissing Bram right now. 

So I do. Kiss him, I mean. It’s a close-lipped kiss, and it last all of 2 seconds. It’s wonderful and magical and incredible and  _ wow.  _

I shift back into drive, focus intently on the road, and  _ definitely _ not the hand wrapped around mine. 

“Coffee?” 

Excited declarations of agreement. 

I pull through the drive through, then turn to Bram. “How do you take your iced coffee?” 

“What are you, his barista?” I give Nick a look in the rearview that I think is supposed to be menacing, but I end up just looking really soft and dorky. Whatever. I just really happy, okay?

“Five iced coffees, two with milk,” is so much more fun to order than just one. Or four, for that matter.

Every song on the radio is made for us. We’re dancing in our seats and sipping our drinks, and Bram is laughing adorably at the soft looks I keep giving him. I park, and we all get out. The short car ride seems to have put us all in a great mood, because now we’re all bouncing and smiling like dorks. 

I hold hands with Bram on the way to class, which is incredible. I mean, just…wow. It’s great. Almost better than eating Oreos. 

Maybe. 

Thinking about it now, lying in bed all day sucks. I like getting up and seeing everyone I love. 

Though, lying in bed with  _ Bram _ would be an entirely different story. 

**Author's Note:**

> hey thanks for reading! maybe go check out my BRAND NEW TUMBLR @ mostlywritinangst . also i posted a different love, simon fic today too! it's called when and where and who knows so if this fic wasn't for you then that one has a more immediate end result (it's kind of cute, i have to say)


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